For the first, and probably only time in their lives, they were listening to a president talk about their town, their friends and their relatives. Stephanie Burchatz, who runs a small construction company with her dad and brother, was sipping a $2.50 Bud Light. Her eyes were trained on the president.
She had spent most of the day laying new sidewalks, curbs and gutters for the city. Now she was listening as the president talked about the girlfriend of one of her employees, a single mom who had gone back to Lake Area Tech to get an associates degree. By age 20, she was working as a waitress, supporting two beautiful baby girls, Lizzie and Farah, on her own, the president was saying.
Burchatz, 51,was nodding.
This is good, she was saying. This is really, really good.
The president was reading the speech his seventh public address of the week off of a teleprompter. But to the people in the bar it seemed as if he were telling their stories from memory.
When Obama was done, the bar erupted in applause. A woman sitting in the smoking room by the video poker machines had begun crying.
Most of the time I could care less what hes talking about, said Jason Hollatz, 37-year-old farmer. Are all Obamas speeches like that?
Ive got goose bumps, Burchatz said.
Her brother glanced back at the television where Obama, his speech finished, was accepting a Lake Area Tech jacket from one of the new graduates. Suddenly his mouth fell open. Thats the kid who ran over my mailbox last week, he yelled.
